In a culture obsessed with moving on, women need permission to pause — and year-enders offer rare space to reflect, release, and reset
As the year winds down, the world stages a performance of celebration — milestones polished, joy packaged, timelines filled with promotions and holidays framed into perfect captions. But beyond the glare of public happiness and the insistence on moving ahead, there waits a quieter emotion that asks to be felt, not flaunted: gratitude.
I have always been drawn to the idea of Thanksgiving — the harvest and gratitude festival observed in the West, particularly in the United States and Canada. At its heart, Thanksgiving is about pausing to give thanks for the year’s blessings — food, family, health, community. Families and friends gather over a shared meal, reflect on what sustained them, and simply spend time together.
But gratitude does not belong to geography. It belongs to perspective. And for women who live layered lives especially gratitude is so important. We juggle roles that rarely come with applause — professional, emotional, caregiving, aspirational, invisible. Along the way, we carry burdens we seldom articulate: grudges swallowed to keep the peace, grief postponed because there was no time to fall apart, words left unsaid to protect others. These weights do not disappear. They settle quietly into our bodies, affecting our health, energy and sense of self.
Moved by this idea, I recently hosted — as I do most years — a series of Thanksgiving lunches for friends and family. People kept asking what the agenda was: a milestone birthday, an anniversary, a celebration of sorts. My answer was a single word — Thanksgiving. And the agenda, quite simply, was no agenda — just good food, unstructured conversations, and gratitude. That simplicity resonated. You could see it in the sparkle in people’s eyes, and later, in the messages that arrived long after the tables had been cleared.
At this year-end gathering with colleagues and friends, we played a few light, almost casual games. But one question shifted the room entirely: “What was the most moving experience of 2025 for you?”
The answers were raw and deeply human.
One woman spoke of losing a dear colleague — another woman with whom she had spent more waking hours than with her own family. They had shared lunches, whispered confidences, personal stories exchanged more freely than even with her spouse or son. The colleague had been transferred to Jaipur, struggled with severe stress, and passed away suddenly, almost without warning.
Another woman spoke of an unexpected joy: solitude. For the first time in her marriage, her husband had been posted to another city. It wasn’t loneliness, she clarified — but the quiet reclaiming of self she had long admired in other women. Living apart, she realised, had deepened their appreciation of each other.
Someone else spoke of 2025 as a milestone year simply because she finally began her career — after years of waiting, caregiving and adjusting. One woman shared the fulfilment of a long-held travel dream. Another spoke haltingly of how her daughter’s divorce had been the most heart-wrenching chapter of the year.
There were no judgements. Just an honest outpouring — stories held gently in a space built on trust.
We often tell women to move on, stay strong, and look ahead. But perhaps what women need most at year-end is permission to pause — to name their grief, celebrate their quiet victories, and release emotional baggage they were never meant to carry alone. Gratitude is not passive acceptance; it is active self-preservation. And in a world that constantly asks women to do more, choosing reflection may be the most radical act of all.
At another year-end gathering with colleagues — a diverse group of media professionals across age, gender and hierarchy — we played an ice-breaker called Two Truths and One Lie. The revelations surprised us. A colleague mentioned being invited to a party by Barack Obama — which everyone assumed was the lie. It wasn’t. A senior radio professional revealed she had once been a top contender for Miss India. People we thought we knew well surprised us the most.
Perhaps that, too, is the purpose of year-enders: to remind us that we never fully know another person — and that every life remains layered, evolving, unfinished.
WomanWise Takeaway
Year-end reflections are not about tallying wins or masking wounds. They are about making peace with the year that was — the people we lost, the versions of ourselves we outgrew, and the truths we finally allowed ourselves to speak. Gratitude, in that sense, is not about being thankful for perfection. It is about acknowledging survival. And for women who carry so much, that acknowledgement is not indulgence — it is necessary.
As the year closes, I am less interested in resolutions and more invested in honesty — with ourselves and with one another. Because life, after all, is not about being perfect, successful or endlessly resilient. It is about being kind, staying humble, and creating spaces where people feel safe enough to be real.
If 2025 taught us anything, it is this: when women choose gratitude over grudges and truth over silence, they don’t just heal themselves — they lift everyone around them.
